Carry On Kingdom Hearts
by Princess Nekohime
Summary: "An astoundingly ... piece of ... writing?" - Kirkus Reviews
1. Chapter 1

**Part One**

Roxas, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Rox-iss: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of two steps down the palate to tap, at two, on the teeth. Rox. Iss.

He was Sora, plain Sora, in the village, standing four feet ten in one sock. He was Roxas in a robe. He was Sora at school. He was Sora on the dotted line. But in my arms he was always Schnoogle-wooglikins.

The clown dabbed the indelible pencil onto his tongue and considered the paper arrayed on the toilet tank. "'Wooglikins'. That's perfect," he whispered. "Now, what rhymes with 'non-consensual?"

He was perched on the toilet's bowl, with the hem of his long leather robe hiked up around his waist so that any outside observer looking under the stall would see nothing but urine-soaked tiles, popsicle wrappers, and empty bottles of hair-care products. He sighed longingly, elbows resting on pale and knobbly knees braced against the toilet tank, and mooned over the picture and poem in front of him. The picture was just a sketch, but it made his heart go pitter-pat whenever he looked at it. Or it would, if he had one, which he didn't. As it was it just made him sweat and quiver and feel funny in various locations, which was close enough to pitter-patting for now. It showed a young tousle-haired boy staring out across a field of popsicles and ice-cream sandwiches, his expression coquettish, his smile come-hither, his only clothes a bunny-suit. With ears. It was drawn with more passion than talent, in crayon, on wax-paper. It was stained. With ice-cream. Hopefully.

"'I think that I shall never-- see-nis,'" Axel muttered, putting pencil to paper. "A poem lovely as Sora's p--"

BAM. BAM. BAM.

The heavy wooden door of the bathroom door rocked with a flurry of sudden blows, rattling the window above him and sending cockroaches scurrying for shelter.

The pencil scurried off the paper as it skipped from his begloved and now boneless fingers and dropped to the tiled floor. Axel stopped breathing. He wrapped his arms around his knees and tried to think invisible thoughts.

BAM. BAM. The latch on the door began to rattle as the person outside began to force it. Axel pounced, snatching the papers from the toilet tank mid-leap and throwing his shoulder against the door.

"'Es? Oo i' i'?" he said, leaning against the door with all his weight (such as it wasn't) and jamming the unfinished poem into his mouth. He began chewing frantically.

"Pull your non-existent pants up and let me in," said the voice from behind the door, silky and imperious and patently female. "I need to pee."

Axel removed the paper from his mouth. He looked down at it and frowned. It didn't seem any smaller. "Why can't you use the girl's bathroom?" he asked, whining. "You are a girl. Technically."

BAM. "Demyx is doing his hair," she replied. BAM. "He can take hours." BAM. "He says the light is better in there. Besides, he pees sitting down and still manages to get it all over the floor." BAM. "At least you just leave curly red hairs on the seat." BAM. "And on the back of the tank." BAM. "And on the floor." BAM BAM BAM. "What are you doing in there, anyways?" she asked, her voice growing suddenly suspicious.

Axel swallowed hard. "I'm plucking my eyebrows. Shoo, Larxene. It takes a steady hand."

"There's no mirror in there, darling," she cooed. "That must make it troublesome."

"I've—I've got them memorized," he said.

Axel winced in anticipation of another deafening knock, but none manifested. He pressed his ear against the dark wood of the door, his hair crunching unpleasantly in the process.

"I think I know what you're doing," she cooed. "Matter of fact, I know I do. You're writing creepy little love notes again, aren't you?"

"NO!" he squeaked, but too vehemently. From behind the door, silence. Then a soft, bubbling giggle, warm but unpleasantly predatory. The knob began to first jiggle, then shudder, then finally to rock back and forth violently, accompanied by the sound of splintering wood.

"You remember what we said about the little boys, Axel," said Larxene cheerily. "When Xemnas finds out about this, you'll wish that—"

A piece of the door suddenly cracked, momentarily deafening him. "-- and it'll take more than drugged popsicles to get--" Larxene said, still cheerily. Another crack appeared. "--and! I'll rip them out one by one by one until you--"

With sudden horror Axel realized the bunny-boy sketch was still in his hands. Tonguing the half-chewed poem into his cheek, he opened his mouth to consume the deviant drawing but stalled out as soon as the stained wax-paper got close to his tongue. The stains seemed awfully vivid at this distance, he noted. He was mostly sure it was just ice-cream. Mostly sure.

The upper hinge popped free with a sound like an emerging champagne cork. Squeaking in terror, Axel twitched and lost his grip on the sketch. He watched helplessly as it wafted away just out of reach.

He reached down for it just as his attacker doled out one final blow, popping open the door and sending a spindly bottle-blonde with mean little eyes, a black leather robe, and antennae-like hair tumbled through the door and into him.

"Urf!" said Axel, as a pointy knee drove itself into his groin. "Durf!" he grunted, as a second knee collided with his forehead, driving it into the toilet bowl. "Gluck," he said, clawing at his throat, belatedly understanding that the paper he'd been laboring over was less the tender, delicious parchment he'd been anticipating and more thick and leathery vellum, now lodged firmly in his throat.

Bow chicka wow wow, he thought, turning the palest shade of robin's egg blue.

Larxene sat on the clown's chest, studiously ignoring the frantic hand gestures and high-pitched whistling noises. "Is this supposed to be me?" she asked, holding out the bunny-boy sketch and eyeballing it uncertainly. "Are you making fun of my body, clown?"

Axel shook his head frantically.

Her eyes narrowed. "Are you calling me--flat-chested?"

Axel nodded frantically, then grew wide-eyed, and shook his head.

Demyx swaggered into the bathroom, his hair glossy with a opulent coating of gel. "Have you seen one of my minions sloshing around? I sent it off to fetch me a club soda and I haven't seen the little trait---cutey-pie anywhere."

"I flushed it," said Larxene absent-mindedly. "Do you think this looks like me?" she asked, holding out the sketch.

Axel turned the colour of freshly picked eggplant.

Demyx stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Hm. Sort of. It's not bad. I like the ears. Looks a lot like you. Though it exaggerates your—" He made meaningful hand motions around his chest.

"Go on," said Larxene, her voice carefully modulated. "Exaggerates my what now?"

He tittered nervously. "You know. Your upper bits. Your non-manly bits." He suddenly noticed the purplish figure beneath Larxene. "Say, what's Axel doing down there?" he asked.

"Choking to death," Larxene said, smiling sweetly. Her eyes were ice-cold. "What 'bits' would you describe on me as being 'non-manly bits', specifically?"

Just as Demyx was considering how closely he was approaching un-undeath, Namine scampered in, chasing a small watery figure clad only in a top-hat. She screeched to a halt inches from Demyx. The elemental looked up at Demyx, whimpered quietly, and melted into a puddle, leaving only a moist top-hat quivering on the tiled floor.

"Oh my gosh, what's wrong with Mr. Axel?" gasped Namine adorably.

"He's choking," said Demyx, clutching the girl's shoulder and discretely moving her between himself and the seething blonde. "Me and Larxy were just going to deal with that, weren't we?"

Larxene hissed.

Namine knelt on Axel's chest and looked at him intently. His eyes began to roll back in their sockets. "Did anybody try to clear his airways?" she asked.

Larxene laughed. "I wouldn't want any part of ME to touch ANY part of ANYTHING that's been in Axel's mouth. Which includes Axel's mouth and the areas around or within it."

"I was just looking for a bent coathanger," said Demyx helpfully, making fishing motions with his hands.

Namine sighed deeply, plunged her tiny hand into the clown's gaping blue maw, and swiftly plucked the slick wet gobbet from his throat. It looked like a pale white grub.

"Wait a minute, I think I've read this fanfic" said Demyx, looking down at the diminutive lass.

"He's still not breathing," Namine whispered, nudging Axel with one sandaled foot.

"And?" replied Larxene calmly. "If he's dead it only means more ice-cream and less subpoenas." She nudged him with her foot, grinding the tip of her boot into his ribs.

"He's the only one who knows how to bake a quiche," said Demyx.

"So? Wait, is that code?" Larxene asked suspiciously.

Demyx shook his head. "I just really like his quiche. It always leaves me completely at utterly at peace. Blissed out. Like, really REALLY relaxed. Relaxed all over."

"Are you SURE that's not code?"

"Pretty sure," Demyx said, relenting. He frowned at Axel. "Maybe we should perform CPR?"

Larxene looked at him levelly.

"Ah, right," he said. "No cardio to pulmonarily resuscitate."

"No," she replied.

"And mouth to mouth is out of the question, I suppose? No volunteers? Show of hands?" He looked at the two hopefully. "I can't, I'm afraid. I'm allergic to greasepaint. My doctor says I'm not allowed to touch any clowns."

"Ditto," said Namine quickly. "I break out in rashes. Creepy, shivery rashes."

They stood there silently for a moment. Axel began to gently convulse.

"Why don't we hit him with something heavy and see if that helps?" asked Demyx. "Beat him in the lung regions and try and restart something."

Larxene smiled. "You know, Demyx, sometimes I like the way you think. I'll be right back."

She returned moments later holding an enormous leather-bound book. She grinned. "It's my first-edition folio of De Sade's 'One Thousand And One Days Of Sodom: Sodom Harder'." She hugged the book with unbridled affection. "The Marquis himself signed it! In blood-- and other stuff." She hugged it even tighter.

Demyx and Namine looked at one another in awkward silence as the blonde woman sang gentle lullabies to the book and covered it with heartfelt kisses. "Um, what about Axel?" Demyx finally asked.

"What about him?" Larxene replied, wrinkling her face with confusion. "Oh, right, the part where we don't let the clown die. I'd forgotten." She casually dangled the book above his solar plexus and let it drop.

Namine poked Axel in the nose. "He's still not breathing."

"Try the book again," said Demyx helpfully.

Larxene shrugged, and whipped the book at the downed clown once more, this time with a touch of backspine.

This time it worked. With a moist wheezing sound Axel's lungs filled with a mixture of live-giving air and Demyx's brain-damaging cologne. In an instant his sinewy arms snaked out and wrapped around Larxene's shoulders, trapping her in his spidery embrace before she had a chance to flinch.

"Ooooooh THANK you, Roxas, Sora, my saviour, my sun, my moon, my succulent little cantaloupe!" he breathed, eyes still rolled disturbingly backwards in his head. "You're my little blonde knight in shiny black leather!" And with that, he stuck his tongue gratefully into places where gratitude was not welcome. Larxene thrashed helplessly.

"You taste so sweet!" Axel gasped, momentarily detaching from his flailing saviour's non-consensual embrace. "It's like biting into a fresh peach!"

"OH MY GOOOO—" cried Larxene, before once more being silenced by the clown's persistent pucker.

Axel detached once more, eyes still closed. "It's like sucking sweet, innocent, youthful nectar from a –" he began to say, but was cut short by the simultaneous application of boot to shin and forehead to nose. He reeled backwards, dropping the tiny blonde, and clutched his shnozz.

"Uh-oh!" he said, smoke gathering around his boots in anticipation of his patented chickenshit withdrawal technique.

"Ahem," said a manly voice, as rose petals began drifting in through the bathroom door.

Xigbar stepped out of the heretofore unmentioned shower stall. "Hey, do you mind closing the door?" he asked. "You're letting the rose petals in."

Axel frantically willed his vortices of chickenitude to vorticize faster, but in vain, as Marluxia grabbed him firmly by the collar just as his boots were de-corporealizing. "I can't help but notice a guilty look on your lipstick-smeared face, Axel. Be a good... boy... and give Larxene back her lipstick."

"And give me back my bubble-gum, too!" snarled Larxene, lunging at Axel's tonsils in a distinctly non-romantic fashion. Marluxia's free hand shot out and collared the wrathful revenant in mid-lunge.

Marluxia held the snarling blond harpy and the hyperventilating clown at arm's length from each other. "Children, children," he intoned. "This is the third time today. This eyebrow-plucking cover story is starting to wear thin." Larxene snarled and thrust an eager thumb towards Axel's eye socket. Axel bobbed and weaved as best he could while dangling a foot above the floor. Marluxia shook them both vigorously.

Demyx pouted. "Larxene short-circuited my blow-dryer styling her stupid antennae," he said. "And she's always peeing on the floor." With that, her gaze was ripped away from her red-headed prey to bear down on the hapless bemulleted musician. It was like staring down the barrel of a keyblade. A tiny blonde keyblade. Demyx recoiled backwards as she snapped her teeth noisily at him. Axel giggled, since it was always funny when it wasn't him.

"Children, children, and, might I add, children," said Marluxia, staring pointedly at Demyx, then even more pointedly at Axel, scowling. "I think we've been cooped up in this skeezy supernatural youth hostel for just a tad too long." He paused to shake Larxene vigorously. "What we are in need of is a change of scenery!" He paused to shake Axel vigorously. Axel giggled, then sneezed as a shower of rose petals lodged themselves in his nostrils. "We've been stuck in a bit of a rut. We go out, corrupt the innocent, mayhem, mayhem, the occasional encounter with a giant mystical mouse, mayhem, then back for a fistfight or two in the lavatory. We need to broaden our horizons!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms back expansively in yet another shower of rose petals. Larxene and Axel flailed ineffectually in his grasp.

Demyx giggled, because it was always funnier when it wasn't him.

"I think we should go to Disneyland!" said Vexen, holding out a brochure.

"I think we should go to Graceland!" said Demyx, holding out a equally gaudy pamphlet.

"I think we should go to Vegas!" said Luxord, leaning in through the doorway, wearing only a black-leather towel. He had no pamphlet.

"I think we should go to Thailand!" said Axel, grinning feverishly and proferring, disturbingly enough, a pamphlet. Marluxia shook him vigorously.

"Dudes, I think we should go to China," said Xigbar, dangling from the light-fixture.

"You were just there!" snapped Marluxia. "And some kid mistook you for a fifteen year old pretty-boy!"

"I'm changing my vote to China!" said Axel, waving a hand-drawn pamphlet over his head. It was drawn in crayon.

"I think we should go somewhere where I get to kill Axel," hissed Larxene.

"I can get behind that!" said Luxord.

"Sounds good by me," said Vexen.

"That'd be cool," said Xigbar, giving a thumbs-up.

"Alright, camping it is!" said Marluxia.

"We don't have to leave this hostel for YOU to go camping," muttered Larxene. He shook her extra vigorously. Her hair antennae thwapped against Xigbar's dangling face, making him flinch.

"Yes, camping it is!" he said merrily. He dropped Axel, who landed in a clatter of bones, corsetry and broken crayons. Then, moving across the bathroom, he dropped Larxene in the bathtub. When she, naturally enough, pounced through the air towards Axel, he clotheslined her mid-air with ease, dropping her to the ground in a clatter of gelled hair and knives/cutlery.

"And, by the way, if you two don't get along right now, I'm revoking YOUR blow-dryer privileges—" He pointed at Larxene. "—And YOUR eyeliner allowance—" He pointed at Axel, who looked as if he might cry, if he weren't afraid of making the eyeliner run. "—without hesitation. Are we clear?" He glared at Axel. "Got it memorized, clown?"

"Humph," hmphed Axel.

"Loud and clear," said Larxene, teeth grinding so hard that sparks shot out. "Yay. Camping. That. Sounds. Like. Fun."

"Oooh, I think so too!" chirped Demyx. "What's your favourite part of camping Larxene?"

"The axes. The alone time. The hurting... chipmunks...in the alone time. With axes."

"I like S'mores best of all!" said Demyx.

"I like marshmallows," said Axel. "Wanna know why?"

"NO," replied everyone.

Axel pouted.

Marluxia clapped his hands declaritively. "We're going to delegate! Larxene, you pick up the camping gear. We'll need axes—"

"Yes. We. Will."

"—Weenie roasters—"

"Yes. Yes. We. Will. Need. Lots. Of those."

"—Rope—"

"Don't worry—" Axel began to say, but Marluxia pointed warningly at his own tragically unadorned eyelids. Axel pouted.

"—Tents – one for the girls—" He paused. "The girl."

"Yes. A. Tent. For. The. Alone. Time." Said Larxene.

"Annnnnd one for the boys!' he exclaimed, spurting rose petals. "Saix, we'll need some firewood. Go to the park across the road and get us some firewood."

"Immediately," droned Saix.

"Demyx, make us some Kool-aid," said Marluxia.

"A-Axel's recipe or the one where we stay awake and can breathe?" whispered Demyx worriedly.

"The latter. Luxord, teleport down to the KoA and get us a nice, roomy spot near the toilets with as few witnesses as possible."

"Done and done," Luxord said, schlorping away into a vortex of horror.

"Dude, maybe—maybe you should have told him to put some pants on," said Xigbar, still hanging from the ceiling.

"I could say the same to you," said Marluxia. "It's like being in butcher shop."

Xigbar just shrugged.

"So, Xigbar, why don't YOU put some pants on—"

"Aw," said Xigbar.

"—And go supervise Saix. Make sure he understands what we mean by firewood. Try to minimize bloodshed." He looked at Axel darkly. "And you, clown -- why don't you go to Town and pick up some supplies."

Axel's eyes lit up. "Can do!" he replied.

Marluxia turned, hesitated, then turned back to clarify, but the clown was gone, with only a few streamers of dark smoke marking his exit.

"Well, shit," said Marluxia.

***

Meanwhile, in Hostel Oblivion's communal kitchen, Demyx tried desperately to cram one of his water clones into a large glass pitcher.

"Master, I'm so sorry. I'm sooooo sorry. I've been practicing the Charleston as hard as I possibly can," cried the elemental being, clinging to the lip of the pitcher with tiny watery arms.

"Silence, traitor!" growled Demyx, smacking the elemental on its watery knuckles with a tablespoon.

Axel, sitting cross-legged on the counter, looked at him sharply.

"What—what was that?" Axel asked cautiously.

"We're going camping!" Demyx chirped, dumping colourful powders on top of the still-twitching elemental.

"Yep, we are," said Axel resignedly, turning back to crayoning his shopping list.

Demyx looked over the clown's shoulder, the final screams of the Kool-aid having faded away. "Marshmallows, graham crackers, quick lime, chloroform, Hershey bars— what—what kind of supply list is that anyways?" he asked, his forehead crinkling with puzzlement.

"Heh. Well, I don't know how you make S'mores where you come from," said Axel, smiling grimly. Snapping his fingers, he disappeared in a cloud of black smoke.

* * *

Luxord stood pantless at the registration booth of the KoA That Never Was. "What'd you mean you're booked solid!" he asked angrily. "It's mid-September."

"I'm sorry sir," replied the campground manager, discretely moving a UNICEF box between Luxord's naked thighs and her vulnerable eyes.

"And it's monsoon season!" he cried, striding towards the bulletin board. The UNICEF box followed in unison.

"Might I recommend," she said, looking frantically at the part of the room where Luxord was not, "the Twilight Town Municipal Campground?"

"What sort of amenities do they have?" he bellowed, slamming his hands down on the counter.

She plucked the UNICEF box from the counter and held it in front of her eyes. "It's located conveniently close to the scenic and historical rail-road tracks," she said hopefully.

"We'll take it!" said Luxord, crowing triumphantly, hopping up and down and pumping his fist in the air. The manager shut her eyes.

* * *

The sporting goods store reeked of outgassing rubber and elk urine and sharpened steel. "Beautiful," Larxene whispered, as she ran her fingers delicately across the glittering array of gardening implements. They were as shiny and perfect as the tears of children. Oblivious to the nervous stares of other shoppers, she swooped and danced from aisle to aisle, like a depraved child in a unsettling candy ! Tarps! Razors! Gasoline!

A clerk sidled up to her as she performed unspeakable acts on a plaster-of-paris garden gnome, his acne flushed bright red with equal parts fear and arousal.

"Can I help you, s—er, ma'am?" asked the clerk.

She grinned up him, revealing a bank of sharp white teeth and too much gum. "Where. Are. Your. Axes," she asked, spitting out a mouthful of plaster. Chucking the gnome over her shoulder she prowled towards him. "Big. Ones."

The clerk started to open his mouth but was quickly shushed by Larxene's bony digit against his chapped lips. "Just. Point. I won't like it if you 'axe' me any questions. Hahah. Just kidding but seriously, if you don't point to the axes you'll envy the gnome. You will almost definitely definitely envy him."

The clerk pointed down the aisle towards a distant corner of the store.

"Thanks," she said, picking a chip of plaster out from between her incisors. "Yer a peach."

* * *

Meanwhile, back in town, a little tousle-haired boy sat despondently on the curb of a bright and busy street. A pretty young girl perched beside him, her face equal parts worry and weary.

"I finally made enough munny to go to the beach, but none of my friends are allowed to go today!" whimpered the boy. "The beach isn't any fun without friends. Friendship is the most important part of any beach experience!"

Kairi threw up a bit in her mouth, but concealed it well and swallowed the vile bile without batting an eye. "There, there, Sora," she said, patting his bony shoulders. "Aren't your animalian hallucinations able to go along?"

"They said they had to help the white rabbit today," he said, pouting. Kairi raised an eyebrow, but maintained a steadfastly sympathetic grimace. She braced for further emotional ipecac.

From around the corner came the jangle of off-key circus music, distorted and bassy. A foul windowless van covered with crudely drawn and disquietingly phallic popsicles hurtled down the road towards them, veering wildly from shoulder to shoulder. In one fluid motion Kairi pushed Sora backwards into the ditch, saving him from near-decapitation by the van's hideously unsafe and patently illegal side-view mirror. The van had a bumper sticker – "If this van's a screamin', you know there's ice-cream in! ... it." The bumper-sticker also appeared to be hand-drawn. In crayon.

"Hi kiddo!" said Axel, stepping out the windowless back doors of the grim vehicle. "Why so glum, my sweet-bummed chum?"

"What?" said Kairi, cocking her other eyebrow.

"Mr. Axel!" cried Sora, his eyes dancing with childish delight. He leaped from the ditch and ran to wrap his arms around the clown's disturbingly wasplike waist. Kairi couldn't help but notice that the clown was wearing a corset. Of course he is, she thought sadly. It perfectly complemented his tight leather trenchcoat and heavy eye-makeup.

"And Sora!" trilled Axel. "My little...lollipop. My sweet little...pickle. My corn-dog! My double-ended purple—"

"Is this a friend of yours, Sora?" asked Kairi warily. The clown turned his cold, fishy eyes towards her.

"And who might your little---companion be, my little...beignette?" Axel asked, dripping disdain.

"This is Kairi!" chirped Sora brightly. "She's my girlfriend."

Axel recoiled from Sora's embrace as if burned. "Your what now?" he asked flatly.

Kairi stepped forward, putting herself between Sora and the clown. "I'm Sora's friend, who is a girl." She met the clown's icy gaze with steady eyes. "And you are?"

"And I'm very glad to hear that," Axel replied, gently shoving her aside. "Sora, m'boy, what was that I heard about all your quote-unquote friends abandoning you here?"

Kairi uncocked both eyebrows, then recocked the left, stepping back between Axel and Sora. "How did you hear that?" she asked the clown. "You were more than a block away!"

Axel considered his options, and finally decided to talk through her. "Me and my pals were going on a camping trip this weekend—today! Now, actually!"

"Are there any beaches there?" Sora asked, eyes sparkling with hope.

"Well, there's Larxene," Axel said sotto-voce. "Yes, sure, totally, tons of beaches. There's gonna be more beaches than you could shake a popsicle-stick at! You are gonna end up so chafed like you wouldn't believe! By-- sand, of course!"

Kairi grabbed Sora by the sleeve and pulled him towards her, away from the leering clown. "You aren't seriously considering going camping with a leather-clad clown in a rape-wagon, are you?" she whispered.

"But—the beach!" said Sora, eyes watery with joy.

"Don't you remember what your parents told you about—do you even have parents?" Kairi whispered.

"King Mickey always said, when I saw him in the mall, when I was three, that I should always follow my heart!" Sora said earnestly.

"Into a rape-wagon?" she asked. "Really? Did he specify that?"

Sora just beamed at her. Kairi sighed.

The clown cleared his throat dramatically, then tapped a non-existent wristwatch.

"We'd love to go camping with you!" Sora enthused. "Can my girlfriend come along?"

"I don't think she'd be allowed to go. By her, you know, parents," Axel said through gritted teeth.

Sora frowned. "Well, I'm not leaving Kairi behind! Because she's my friend, and—"

Kairi interrupted. "Yeah, and friendship is... awesome and great and all that," she said, grasping at straws and Sora's collar with a vice-like grip.

Axel looked down at her, quickly appraising the situation. He shrugged. "Sure," he said. "There's always room for one more in my rape-wagon." He grinned.

"See?" Kairi squeaked, pulling Sora frantically away from the clown. "He just said rape-wagon!"

"No I didn't," said Axel, not missing a beat. "I said my ice-cream truck!"

"I heard the word rape," she said accusingly.

"Perhaps you heard crepe," he said cheerfully.

"But Mr. Axel, you don't have a crepe maker," said Sora querously.

"Why don't you shut your pretty little mouth, Sora?" Axel said.

"His pretty little what now?" Kairi interjected.

Axel frowned. "We're wasting time with semantics. Sora, unattractive girl, just—just get in my ra—my roomy van. I have ice-cream!"

"Oooh!" said Sora. "Is it salty?"

"With me, it always is," said Axel. With a practiced fluorish he opened the windowless back-doors and gestured towards the ebon interior. Sora bounced gleefully into the van with a grace born of familiarity, whereas Kairi approached that darkened maw with a more sensible dread.

"Why do you have a sign that says 'free kittens' taped to the inside window, Mr., um, Axel?" Kairi asked, peered anxiously at a bag of quick-lime and bungee cords just inside the van.

"Because I feel that's a cause anybody can get behind," he replied cheerfully.

"Oh dear," said Kairi, as the door closed behind her. She couldn't help but notice there was no handle on the inside.

"Relax, Kairi!" said Sora. "He's going to slip us some salty popsicles any time now, as soon as we reach the warehouse district!"

"Oh. Oh dear," said Kairi. "I take it you've done this before."

"I think so," Sora replied. He looked somewhat lost. "Though, now that you mention it, everything gets a bit cloudy after the popsicles."

"Oh. Oh FUCK," said Kairi, as the van rumbled to life in a cloud of thick black diesel exhaust. It slipped away down the street ominously, as if never to return. A single popsicle wrapper bobbed along in its wake. Wait, do they make Trojan-brand ribbed popsicles?

* * *

Meanwhile, in the asphalt parking lot outside of Hostel Oblivion, the members of Organization XIII were hard at work trying to pitch a tent.

"Really? Nothing?" asked Larxene, zipping her robe back up. There was silence.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Meanwhile, back in the rape-wagon, Kairi was feeling restless.

"Sora," she whispered. "There are handcuffs dangling from the rearview mirror! And the side-view mirrors! And the mirrors on the ceiling! And the gear-shift! And the crepe-maker!"

"Oh, that's not where crepes are made," sniggered the clown, swerving to run down a plump pair of chipmunks with great satisfaction. "That's where dreams are—born, if you will."

"I won't!" cried Kairi.

"Whatever, unnatractive girl child," Axel sneered.

"I need to pee," Sora said, peering out through the front windshield, the side windows having been spray-painted black. "Sayyyy, Mr. Axel, this isn't the warehouse district. Have you changed popsicle distributors? Do I still pee where I always used to?"

Kairi shuddered.

"Hold onto your adorable little polka-dotted shorts, li'l pal," said Axel. "We're going to make a few brief stops, get some stuff, do some---stuff. You can pee after we've done that. At that point we'll have replenished our creative juices, so to speak, if you know what I mean, and I think you know what I mean." He paused. "You do know what I mean, right?"

"No!" Sora said happily.

Axel sighed. "Unattractive girl, you know what I mean, correct?"

"Yes," Kairi said unhappily. "I can infer."

"Any way you can convey that to your tousle-haired little friend?" he said, baring his teeth unpleasantly.

"Ew," said Kairi. "Ew!" She shuddered. "EW!"

"I'll take that as a n—maybe," said Axel. He eyed her, seeming to sudden become aware of her. "You know, in this light, you almost look like that Riku kid!" He smiled.

Kairi blanched. "HIM TOO?"

Axel tapped the sun-visor. Only then did Kairi notice the polaroids clipped to it. Sun-damaged, faded, like the eyes of the children portrayed within. "Wait a minute!" she said, pointing at one particular polaroid. "Why is Sora blonde in that one?"

Axel plucked the photo from the visor and squinted at it thoughtfully. "You wouldn't understand, somewhat-more-attractive-under-these-low-light-conditions girl-child." He frowned at her. "Would you mind wearing this shapeless hoodie?" He dangled a grey hooded sweatshirt in front of her.

"Where did you just pull that from?" Kairi asked, taking the clothes cautiously.

"That's what she said," Axel said.

"Yes, I did," Kairi said.

"That was then and this is now," Axel said, rolling down the window and throwing out the polaroid. "That little boy didn't value friendship. This little boy does!" He snaked the elbow of his gear-shifting arm up and over the tousle-haired boy, pulling him close. "This one's a keeper, not like that other one. Hey, unattractive girl, open the glove box and pass me the camera. We need to get a snapshot of this little hot-pocket."

Against her better judgement, Kairi did as requested. Her face turned white, then green. "Oh god," she whispered. "Oh. God."

"No, no, just the camera," Axel said cheerily.

Trembling, fingers moist with terror-sweat, she gingerly removed the dusty Polaroid from the darkened recess.

"Thanks, kid," said the clown, taking the camera from her trembling hands. "Hey, Sora! Smile at the camera! Say 'drugged popsicle'!"

Kairi just kept staring at the glovebox. She slowly moved backwards on her hands and knees until she was far away from it as possible, never blinking.

Just then the van jostled and rocked violently, sending Sora bouncing from Axel's sweaty embrace onto the floor. The glove-box snapped shut. A cardboard box slid off the cupboards above the rusted deep-fat fryer and spilled open, scattering lawn-darts and Jack Chick scriptures everywhere. "Hold on to your hats, kiddies! That bump was the tracks," said Axel happily. "Before we go quote-unquote camping—" He let go of the steering wheel to make air quotes, sending the van veering wildly into oncoming traffic. "—we're going to swing by the railroad siding—"

"Yay, the siding!" said Sora, Radiant with joy. "That's where the other little boys come to play! The cold ones who don't talk!"

Kairi discretely nabbed the sharpest looking lawn-dart and concealed it her meager cleavage.

Axel continued obliviously "—and maybe get some more rope for the camping trip. Can't have too much rope, eh, Sora!"

"That's for sure!" the little boy agreed.

"You know, Mr. Axel—" said Kairi. She swallowed, realizing how thirsty she was. "Uh. You know, our PARENTS—" she emphasized this. "—probably want us to call from the campground as soon as possible. Just to confirm that we arrived and that we're eating and that we're not partially-dismembered and violated in some forgotten warehouse. Hint hint."

"Let's sing a song, kids!" said Axel, ignoring her. "How about 'Little boy blue, come blow your horn?'"

"That's not a song, that's a nursery rhyme!" said Kairi. "And did you hear what I—"

"Why don't you shut your not-so prettty little mouth?" Axel asked sweetly. "How's that for a song?"

"I don't know that one!" said Sora. Kairi shuddered again.

"Sora, why don't you sing a song?" said Axel. "I'm sure your singing voice is as lovely as your screaming voice!"

"I like songs about sharing and friendship!" chirped the boy, as Kairi stared blankly at the wall.

"What a surprise," Axel said, rolling his eyes. "Ah well, no time! We're here!"

Kairi twitched. "We're where?"

Axel laughed. "I guess we could say that WE are at the end of OUR journey together, if you know what I mean—"

"I do," said Kairi unhappily.

"So what WE are going to do is gather up anything of OURS from inside the van that could be traced back to US and then WE—"

A flicker of color from outside caught his eye. Reflected blue and red lights glinted off cracked and greasy windows of the crumbling brick charnel house before them. Axel eased the van forward quietly, peering out into the open siding. It was full of cars – police cruisers, forensics vans, and paddy wagons, scattered across the siding purposefully. Grim men with pale faces and flashlights stood around tarped objects and half-dug trenches, while younger officers stood around, mute and horrified.

"—are going STRAIGHT to the campground so that both of YOU little bunny-rabbits can call your parents and tell them everything is completely hunky-dory and alibitastic!" he said, voice quavering slightly as he shifted into reverse and slunk back down the alley.

"So we aren't going to see my cold friends!" said Sora, bottom-lip quivering. "You'd have really liked 'em, Kairi," he said, looking at her imploringly. She just held her knees against her chest and stared wide-eyed at the windowless walls once more.

* * *

Luxord stood on the edge of the bleak grey wasteland of clinkers and beer can tabs that was the Twilight Town Municipal Campground. A locomotive whistle sounded, mournful and extremely close by.

He considered the toilets. They were very conveniently located, just a short jaunt from the site. Unfortunately, as he approached them, he noted a sign tacked to the swinging doors – 'Closed for The Duration Of The Jenkins Trial – Alternate Facilities Located 20 Paces Due North.'

Curiosity got the better of the pantless goateed man, who paced out the directions indicated. "Oh, ouch," he said, stubbing his toe against a railroad tie. He looked down the tracks, running parallel to the campground. "Oh, yuck," he said, realization sinking in. "Oh, ew," he said, his foot sinking into the reality of the realization.

He walked back to the campsite, scuffing his feet fastidiously against the razory clinkers. A marabou stork perched atop the bright blue cooler, oozing gently. "Fly away, little guy!" he said cheerfully, snapping its neck in passing. The site itself wasn't so bad, he thought, covering his ears as a freight-train thundered past scenically. There was a deep cinder-block fireplace, full of the ashes of...something that wasn't wood. He looked away. The picnic table was solid and long – just like me, he thought, heh heh, if you know what I mean. He looked around. "That was a good one," he muttered, wishing for once that he had an audience. He peered more closely at the table. Some fevered hand had made grim work of the table-top with a knife, carving queer arabesques and unwholesome sigils across its surface. Frowning, he lifted the camp-stove and carefully placed it over the more nightmarish blasphemies.

He stood back to consider it all, kicking aside a nest of syringes. "This campground is kind of a-- way more awesome campground than the other one!" he said enthusiastically. "And hey, there's a liquor store AND a check-cashing store AND a methadone clinic AND a drug-store AND a free clinic AND a Pentecostal church right across the street!" He grinned. The toothless wino half-asleep under the picnic table smiled back.

"Now where can I go to pitch a tent around these parts?" he asked.

"The church gets pretty steamed-up round about happy hour," the wino suggested helpfully.

"Neat!" said Luxord.

"Got any spare change?" asked the wino.

"I left my change in my other pa—wait a moment," he said, looking down. "I'm naked!"

The wino nodded. "So that's a no?"

* * *

Marluxia arrived next, swanning his way towards the picnic table authoritatively. Saix trudged behind him, looking sour. "Good work, Luxord," Marluxia boomed. "I see you managed to locate some trousers."

Luxord looked down at the ratty and ill-fitting sweat-pants he was wearing. "Yeah, I found a pair," he said off-handedly. "Look! There's a harmonica in the pocket!"

"Oh," said Marluxia. "I thought you were just glad to see me."

"I think I'd be somewhat gladder than that!" Luxord pouted. "I'm more a C than this E minor."

The sound of splashing water and the insistent slap of a riding crop and the jangle of spurs came from along the tracks. "Faster, cur," snarled a nearby voice, followed by a moist whimper of pain and the slap of leather on water.

"I think Demyx is here," Luxord said casually, fondling his warm harmonica.

"Hi guys!" said Demyx, walking into the campground. A lead and bridle were slung over his shoulder, and a pair of shiny brass spurs jangled at the heels of his hideous white cowboy boots.

"Are those Organization XIII issue footwear?" asked Saix dourly.

"They must be! I found them in Marluxia's room! Along with these polaroids!" He brandished a handful of snapshots.

"Polaroids? What polar—" Saix started to say.

"THE BOOTS ARE FINE!" boomed Marluxia, turned to fix Saix with a murderous glare.

Demyx set down the enormous jug of Kool-Aid he'd been carrying onto the picnic table. He dropped the bridle on the ground. It was wet.

"Where did you get the, uh, livery, Demyx?" Luxord asked, eying the bridle.

"I found it in Axel's room!" he replied cheerily.

"Oh," Marluxia blinked. "Has anybody ever seen Axel with a horse?"

Luxord sighed. "Man, if you're on his Facebook friends list, there's no chance you HAVEN'T seen him with one. Or two."

"Sometimes they're ponies," Xigbar said, swaggering into the campsite. "Or, more accurately, I guess you could call them foals."

An awkward silence fell upon them. Luxord sighed. "Sometimes I wonder why we let Axel—why we let Axel be—sometimes I just—wonder."

"Yeah," said Xigbar. "Me too." He sighed. "I'll give him this, though – despite his failings, and he has so, so, so many failings, the man bakes a mean quiche."

Marluxia nodded, eyes dewy and distant with recollection. "His quiches are magnificent. Unparalled. Works of art."

Luxord smiled, and raised his hands to his mouth in ecstatic reverie. "They're wonderful. They're like biting into a freshly picked peach, in the earliest hours of a late summer morning, when the orchard is still quiet and serene and all the leaves and grass are covered with sparkling diamonds of dew, and there's no-one but you and the peach, and you and the peach are, if only for that moment, the only things in existence, and everything that is or was or shall be is an aspect of your embrace at that moment. Everything exists just for that one touch. And his tongue--" He drifted off, his mind adrift in steamy sargasso seas.

A strangled silence filled the gap left by the awkward silence. Marluxia opened his mouth, then closed it, the opened it, obliged to speak. "I—rather enjoyed where the cheese on top stuck to the crust, so there's a little cheese-crust interface, that—" He petered out. "How 'bout those Red Sox?" he proferred, voice cracking.

"I'd kill both of you with my bare hands for just another taste of that impossible pleasure," Luxord said, smiling at both of them.

"Though I don't like it when's there's too many onions," said Xigbar, impressively oblivious to the conversation around him. "Gives me the farts."

"With my bare hands," whispered Luxord.

* * *

In a screech of failing brakes and a shower of clinker fragments Axel's van skidded to a stop alongside the campsite. He squinted out at the grim diorama. Black-clad figures with complicated hairstyles stood scattered around the site, with the only unifying factor being the dour and unsmiling faces possessed of each and every one. "This party seems a bit—deadsville," he said thoughtfully. "Sora? Quasi-Riku? Hows about we ditch these squares and go digging for clams under the boardwalk?" He listened attentively. "No objections? Nothing? Well, silence is as good as consent, right? That's in the constitution! Or in the Bible! Or both!"

As he bent forward to put the van into gear, a pale figure jammed its head through the thin gap between window and frame. Axel squeaked in terror.

"Axel, don't take this the wrong way, please, and don't ever let my words now dissuade you from the fact that I hate you deeply and will kill you sooner than later, but I am so glad to see you right now, you can't even imagine," said Larxene, her head cocked at a hideously uncomfortable angle through the partially opened window. "These people are idiots! Nobody brought anything to eat other than s'mores. Nobody! Nothing! And there's nothing to drink but Demyx's Kool-Aid, and it's terrible! It tastes like tears and ammonia and it won't stop whimpering!"

"Ah, prom night," said Axel, his eyes grown misty. He rolled the window down slightly.

Larxene oozed her head in further through the window and smiled a wide and hungry – actual hunger, not the dog's breakfast of deviant physical and anti-social desires and tics that she might qualify as hunger – smile. "I haven't had a bite in two days. And I haven't had anything to eat since this morning. So didja get something for us?"

Axel nodded, rolling the window up ever so slightly. "I sure did, if by us, you mean me, and by something, you mean—what were you asking again?"

"Do you have any food?" she said, less cheerfully.

"Ah," said Axel. He looked back into his rape-wagon accusingly. "I—could have. Food-like... items. Um. Well. Tell me, is quick-lime—"

"Not as tasty as it sounds and it makes a terrible sherbet. Anything else?"

"I have—popsicles?" he said, grinning a sickly grin.

"Any popsicles that are, um, 'unflavored'?" she asked, winking frantically.

"Is valium a flavor?" asked Axel.

She sighed. "So, you didn't bring anything other than corrosives and drugged ice-cream. Great."

He raised his hand. "Oh! And I brought a pair of cupcakes!"

Larxene looked quizzical. "Cupcakes? Who buys a pair of cupcakes?"

Grinning merrily, Axel swung open the door and stepped out into the campsite, oblivious to Larxene's whimpers of pain as she swung along with the door. He walked to the back of the van and opened the latch. Kairi tumbled out and lay in a stunned and boneless heap on the clinkers, having been pressed against the door. She gasped and wheezed and writhed on the ground. Sora peeped his head out and smiled cheerily. "Mr. Axel, you forgot to open the air holes again!" he chirped. "Kairi had the dizzies after you left the engine idling! Then she took a nap!"

"Oh Axel," Demyx said, disappointed. "These aren't cupcakes. These are children."

Axel frowned. "But they're far sweeter than any actual cupcake could ever be!"

Demyx raised an eyebrow. "Like, literally? Because that's kind of—unsettling."

"And unhygienic," Vexen added.

"And I wouldn't want to eat anything that you've been---consorting with," Marluxia said sternly. "If you know what I mean."

"I sure don't!" said Axel cheerfully.

Kairi rose from her deathly slouch to point a quavering tiny finger at Axel. "You!" she squeaked. "You knocked me out!"

"You fell asleep!"

"Because there was no air!"

"Oh? And how is that my fault?"

"Because you sealed us up and closed the vents and taped a garden hose to your exhaust!" she barked angrily, pointing at the murderous plumbing clearly evident on the van's exterior. Axel tried to discretely remove the duct-tape with the toe of his boot.

"I'm concerned about reducing my carbon footprint," said Axel, pouting. "So I redirect the exhaust back into the car! It's a closed circuit. Mother Earth doesn't feel anything!"

"Donald and Goofy say that recycling glass and metal goods is a good way to save the earth!" chirped Sora.

"Oh! Oh god! Is that why he's—the way he is?" Kairi asked in horror, looking back and forth between the clown and the boy. Her finger spiraled a circle around her temple. "Is that why he's so—um---innocent?"

"Me and Mr. Axel like to sleep together a lot," said Sora, smiling beatifically. Axel stiffened and stood rigidly, eyes fixed forward.

Marluxia strode forward fluidly, pausing only to glare venomously at Axel. "My dear boy," he purred, kneeling down beside Sora. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Yes Sora my platonic chum tell him exactly what happens and don't accidentally stray into metaphor or similes or incriminating physical descrip—" He stopped short mid-sentence, muted by the tip of Larxene's blade hovering milimeters away from his tender cornea.

Sora giggled. "Mr. Axel is my grown-up friend! He takes me on lots of adventures. He shows me stuff about myself that I would never have known otherwise!"

Marluxia cleared his throat. "Right. So—we can take that statement on a number of levels. First, we can take it literally—"

Luxord raised his hand and looked sadly at Axel. "No, we can't."

"But we did!" said Axel, imploring as frantically as one can with a razor poised above one's eye. "I mean, I wanted to, and I tried to, and I drugged the popsicles and the sodas and the cookies and the kittens, all in anticipation OF, but there wasn't any OF to OF." He paused. "So I didn't, cuz we haven't, and, I swear, we won't! Not at this rate, anyway," he added, sotto voce.

Marluxia glared at Axel sternly. "Sora, my lad, has this bugger actually touched you?"

"He sure has!" chirped Sora. "We're best friends!"

The blade now pressed so close to Axel that his eyelashes fell like mascaraed stalks of wheat with every blink. "Li'l chum, specify how we touched," he said, teeth gritted. "The specifics of contact. The zones. The regions. If I had a doll—"

"I have a dolly!" said Demyx, reaching into the moist depths of his trenchcoat. "I kifed it from your last arraignment!"

"Good ol' raggedy Andy," gritted Axel. "Sora, if you would be so kind—"

"Oh, please, please be so kind," whispered Larxene. A drop of her saliva landed on the tip of Axel's shoe.

Sora picked the doll up and smiled. "It kinda looks like Axel! Look, it has red hair!"

"Oh, Sora, stay on target," hissed Axel, shedding eyelashes.

"He touched me here—" the tousle-haired boy said, pointing at the doll. "And here!" He pointed to another area. "And finally, he always like to touch and hug me all around here."

"God, I wish I could see that fucking doll right now," said Axel, mesmerized by the razor sharp blade that filled his vision.

Marluxia looked at the doll closely. "So—nothing below the—well, the collar-bone." He looked at Axel, almost approvingly. "My boy, you do me proud!" He beamed at the clown.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" screamed Kairi, crawling towards them, still too weak to stand. "HE WAS TAKING US TO HIS BURYING GROUNDS. WHERE HE BURIES THE BOYS HE MURDERS. AFTER VIOLATING THEM. HOPEFULLY AFTER. I DON'T KNOW. I'M SEEING THINGS." She wobbled. "I WANT TO GO HOME."

Demyx wangled the doll in Kairi's face. "So, where did he touch you, ugly little boy?" he asked accusingly.

Kairi's face dropped. "I'm in hell, aren't I. I—"

"Where did he touch you?" he said teasingly, shoving the doll's crotch into her face and grinding it.

"NOWHERE! ALRIGHT! ARE YOU HAPPY?" she said, bursting into tears. Demyx gave the doll a few more twists.

"I'm fucking ecstatic," said Axel, watching the razor retreat from his eyes.

"Well, at least as you're not fucking Sora," said Larxene, withdrawing her knife from the clown's denuded eye.

"Wait, what?" asked Sora innocently, looking around him. "I'm confused!" He looked down at Kairi. "Oh no! What happened, Kairi! Why are you crying?"

Kairi raised a thin and trembling arm from the heap that was her. She extended a single perfect middle-finger at him. "Fuck you, Sora," she whispered.

"If only," whispered Axel, in a tiny voice. "If only."

* * *

Somewhere in the deep and timeless forests surrounding Twilight Town Municipal campground, plot development was happening. Two shadows emerged from the treeline and slunk silently into a sulfurous yellow circle of light, cast by the buzzing fixture beside the locked bathrooms. They stood there, one tall, one short, both motionless. Neither spoke.

Goofy was the first to move. He stared up at the moonless sky, as if trying to get his bearings. The duck stood fast, casting anxious little glances back into the woods, feathered fingers dancing across the pommel of his sheathed sword.

"Hyuck," said Goofy, his voice filled with a deep, soulful weariness. "So a dog and a duck walk into a campground..."

The duck looked up at him expectantly, waiting for a punchline.

Goofy grimaced. "Gawrsh, that's not a joke. That's a statement of fact. I'm just trying to hash out our plan of attack. Hyuck. How 're we gonna tell the little guy? It sounds crazy! The Kingdom of Mickey without Mickey? How's he gonna--"

A owl hooted ominously, and Goofy stopped mid-sentence. The duck unsheathed his glittering blade. The rune-scribed elvish steel glimmering blue and sparkly.

Goofy's eyes hardened. ""Hyuck. Aw, gawrsh, the hellspawn have found us once more!" he said. He traced a circle of mystic white energies around them, then turned to face the duck, his face drawn and intense. "I"m doggone glad to say, that if I have to have my heart consumed by the spawn of Nyarlathotep, the black goat with a thousand young, that it is with you, buddy. By your side."

The duck nodded once, and continued to stare silently into the woods, sword drawn, it's razor edge glittering in the moonlight.

Goofy raised his shield. "If we meet up again in Hell, I'll save ya a spot on the spit that Satan himself turns eternally!" The pentacle around them flickered with white-hot intensity. "Hyuck! That is to say, if we are graced with hell's acceptance! Hyuck! There are worse fates! Hyuck! An eternity of insane oblivion in the grinding bowels of the Elder Ones!"

The duck nodded again, and stepped forward towards the edge of the light.

Then, from out of the shadows stepped a black-robed figure. "Hi guys!" said Demyx, waving cheerfully. "Long time no see, dog-thing! The duck!" He clutched his stomach theatrically. "I gotta piss like a race-horse that ate a lot of water elementals, a shit-ton of 'em. I'd say 'drunk' a bunch of water elementals, but there's just so much chewing involved..."

Demyx swallowed, suddenly noticing the the duck's blade at his throat. "Hey, pal, easy!" he said. "What the heck do you think you're--" He stopped, a glint of realization in his eyes. He smiled coyly. He knew what this was. He was a man of the world. He'd read the graffiti on the bathroom walls, after he'd broke in to use the mirror and plug in his iPod. He'd seen the illustrations, drawn in magic marker. And he couldn't help but notice that the duck was not wearing pants. It all fit together like the pieces of a really gay jigsaw puzzle. Perhaps one with two unicorns in speedos making out on top of a rainbow while Rip Taylor threw glitter on them. Or perhaps not.

Demyx cocked an unjudging but wary eyebrow. "I don't swing that way—waterfowl, that is," waving his hands dismissively. "Foul water, on the other hand—" His eyes grew wide. "Say, I gotta go!" With that, he staggered bloatedly out of frame, kicking open the door of the bathroom.

Goofy sighed with relief. The duck sheathed his sword, eyes darting back and forth. He did not relax.

"It seems as if we are safe for the time being, pal," Goofy said, scuffing out the glowing pentacle on the ground with his ridiculous shoe. "But Mickey's eldritch forces grow ever stronger. I really don't know how Sora's gonna take this news! Or—or if he's even gonna understand it at all! Boy's getting dimmer every day! And gawrsh, he sure does love that mouse. How's he take it when we tell him that King Mickey has gone insane!"

* * *

Dumbo screamed.

The sky was on fire. Inky black clouds rained cinders and drops of foul liquid that hit the shattered ground below their dark meanderings and erupted into sizzling craters of fuming smoke with every impact. The horizon was a warped line of brown and yellow and orange in disquieting contrast, the edges and outlines shimmering and twisting in the dense hot air. It was a nightmare world.

And Dumbo still screamed.

Around him spilled the inchoate howls of thousands upon thousands of tortured souls writhing in ecstatic suffering, singing a chorus of agony, all chained to dark stone altars, just as he was. The air burned with the stench of rotten eggs and freshly spilled blood. The ground was lifeless, just bare rock covered with dust and bleached white bones.

Across this impossible tableau marched an endless line of stick figures, bent and twisted things of wood and cotton. Mops. It was an army of mops, their wooden handles splintered and grey with age. They shambled forward mindless and silent, each one holding a bucket. Droplets of dark liquid spattered forth with every lurching forward step, painting the trail they walked, so ancient and worn that it was etched into the rock itself.

Dumbo lay naked and partially flayed upon the cracked granite of the altar. Bas reliefs of capering nightmares covered the sides. A frothing torrent of rich red arterial blood coursed down a channel, pouring from his body, filling the buckets as the mops trudged past his prison.

And his eyes, oh, his eyes, which should have been dull with pain, they showed nothing but absolute clarity. Dumbo screamed, silently, as the brooms carried away his life essence to fill some great pool carved into the rotten stone as with some huge claw. He screamed and screamed in silent agony, unable to look away from the flat black eyes staring down into his.

The mouse king stood over Dumbo, a faint smile on his cruel face. A soiled hat covered with stars and moons and other things less recognizable perched on his ears. He smiled down at the elephant. It was not pleasant.

"I was the Apprentice, once," hissed Mickey. "But now I am the Sorceror. And I have no need of any pupil. None will take my place. I will be the last."

Dumbo wished he could look away from the visage above him. Away from the soulless eyes and sharp teeth and the traces of decay. He wished and he prayed, to equal effect. For the hideous truth is that you cannot close your eyes when you have no eyelids.

* * *

"Hyuck. Yup, it's pretty messed up, all right."

The duck nodded.

"Guess we better find Sora. Before the universe collapses into chaos, or he chokes on his own tongue. Both are equally likely to occur, hyuck."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Meanwhile, back at the Organization XIII campsite, almost everybody was up to something across the street in the mini-mall of Sin. Only those of pure-heart and/or Fake-Ids and/or lecherous intentions remained.

"Did I ever tell you about the time King Mickey—" Sora started to say, his blank little eyes filled with rapture.

"If it involved friendship, and cooperation, then yes," said Axel tersely, roasting a marshmallow over the campfire. He looked up, and smiled gently. "Say, little buddy, it's getting chilly out here. There's room in my trench-coat for two, you know."

"Really?" said Kairi, stepping into the campfire light. "Doesn't seem like there's room enough in there for one!" She sat down beside Sora, opposite Axel, and smiled at the clown triumphantly. Axel's marshmallow burst spontaneously into/exploded violently/white hot flame.

"Oh, Sora, it's pretty chilly!" Kairi said, leaning against the tousle-haired boy while smirking at Axel. He ground his teeth together, and popped another marshmallow onto his skewer, staring at Kairi meaningfully. Kairi's smile grew wider.

"If you're cold, Kairi, you should get into Mr. Axel's trenchcoat!" chirped Sora.

Kairi shuddered, a long shudder proceeding slowly from head to toe. "I bet it smells like wet dog in there," she said.

The bag of marshmallows beside Axel exploded in a geyser of molten sugar, splattering its surroundings. "Au contraire," Axel said. "That dog is getting mighty dry, if you know what I mean?"

"Oh, I do," said Kairi, serendipitously pulled Sora closer to her and further away from clown.

"Got any more marshmallows?" asked Sora innocently.

Axel picked a gobbet off his cheek. "Think we ate all the new ones. The ones we have left are old. You don't want old marshmallows." Held out one for example.

"Where'd you get that?" said Kairi. "You don't have pockets."

"I—found it in front of the outhouse," he said, skewering the leathery thing. "My point is that, once they get old, they're no longer so soft and sweet and perfect. When they're young—I mean, fresh—" Kairi looked at him as he shoved his stick into the leathery marshmallow with a disturbing and inept enthusiasm. "—They have such a thin delicate skin. It's so easy to overcook them. To ruin them. To make them into inedible garbage." He began to toast his marshmallow, bobbing it delicately well above the flames.

Kairi held Sora tighter. "It's such a delicate operation," Axel said. "You have to hold them close enough to get them soft and liquid inside, and yet far enough away that they don't—VIOLENTLY COMBUST!"

Kairi squeaked tinily, squeezing Sora so tight that his adorably large eyes bugged out like a dog's chew-toy.

"But it's even worse when they're ollllld." Sora nodded, wide-eyed, utterly incomprehending. "They're leathery. No matter how much you cook 'em, they'll never taste as sweet as they could have." Jabbing marshmallow... violently into the flames and then pulling it back." "So you try and you try to get them to be edible, just edible, and then before you know it, FWOOMP! It's on fire! You've killed him!"

Kairi shrieked. The marshmallow ignited. Sora smiled and nodded.

Axel smiled. "Do you get what I'm saying here?"

"Y-y-es," said Kairi, her scrawny form flung defensively over Sora. "You're saying we should call our parents!"

Axel laughed gently, whapping his burning marshmallow against the toe of his boot. "In the S'mores of life, Kairi, some of us are marshmallows." He pointed at Sora. "Some of us are chocolate." He pointed at himself. "And some of us are the nasty, gritty, horrible, ugly graham crackers that constrain and hold back the sweet intermingling of chocolate and marshmallow over the searing fires of true happiness!"

"Yeeaaaaaahh," Kairi said. "Dooooes this campground have a payphone?"

"Not a working one. Anymore," said Axel, eyes glittering brightly.

Kairi swalloed. "Gee, Sora, is your sleeping bag big enough for, say, two non-adults?"

Sora blushed. "Gosh, Kairi, are you trying to seduce me?"

Kairi boggled. "I—yes! Totally! You and me, together, in—that way you just said," she said, nodding frantically. "Oooh baby. So, why don't me and you and no clowns retire to your clown-proof tent and—"

"Gawrsh, Kairi, that's uncharacteristically forward of you!" said a voice from the darkness.

Kairi stared into the woods, wide-eyed and tongue-tied. Sora smiled cheerfully. Axel seemed oblivious, tearing off the blackened skin of his leathery treat. "What—who—did you hear that?" she whispered to Sora.

"Yes? Of course! It's Goofy! And Donald! And Sora! No, Sora isn't there. Sora's me! I'm here!" He beamed.

"You see what I mean?" said Goofy, stepping into the light from the campfire. He make circley motions around his temple with one oversized begloved hand. "Li'l buddy here is a few marshmallows short of a S'more!"

Kairi shrieked, as the peculiar dog-thing stepped towards her.

"Aw, shucks, you don't remember me?" Goofy said. "That happens a lot!"

The duck appeared out of the darkness more cautiousy, one eye fixed on the clown, who had managed to find an edible liquid center in his horrible treat. It dangled white and limp from the tip of his gloved finger.

"Hi Goofy!" said Sora, waving cheerfully. "What's up!"

Axel sucked his finger thoughtfully.

"Uhhh," Goofy sighed. "Gawrsh. It's a long story, spanning several dimensions, with several abstract concepts—gawrsh! Kairi!"

Kairi shrieked. Neither Sora nor Axel flinched.

"Hey, Kairi, does li'l buddy here understand when you explain things to him?" Goofy asked.

"He does if I use short words and keep my boobies front and center," she said frankly.

"Works for me!" Goofy said. "I wasn't gonna say anything, but—wait, how old are you kids now?"

"Nowhere neaaaaaaaar legal," Kairi said.

"What was that?" Axel asked, looking up at her suspiciously

"I wasn't talking to you, clown," she said coldly.

"I'll always think of you as little children—" said Goofy.

Kairi glared at Axel, who was obliviously stabbing his sugar-coated stick into the fire.

"But I understand that everybody gets—well—less young!"

"Yes, everybody gets older," Kairi said dryly.

"Not me!" said Axel. "I swapped eternal soul for eternal youth!"

They ignored him. Goofy sighed. "I need you to tell our li'l pal here—"

Sora waved happily.

"—that his most beloved regent—"

Sora looked puzzled.

"—King Em Eye See Kay Ee Why—"

"SEE YOU SOON!" screeched Sora.

"—has dragged the magickal kingdom into pestilence and evil so abhorrent that even the universe itself is rejecting it! Hyuck! His mad lust for power has driven the existence of...hyuck, existence itself into peril!"

"Uh," said Kairi. "Huh?"

"Mad lust!" said Sora echolaliacally. Axel bit through his marshmallow roasting stick. He eyed the boy suspiciously.

Goofy grew quieter. "See, hyuck. King Mickey has gone mad. Bonkers!"

"What," said Kairi.

Goofy looked uncertain. "Gawrsh. He's been dabbling in the dark arts for a while now. Donald advised him against it – he's had experience. He's seen things. But Mickey insisted that we had to fight fire—" He looked at Axel meaningfully. "—With fire. But, hyuck, dabbling turned into a full-fledged wallowing!"

"What," said Kairi.

Sora beamed. "How's Queen Minnie, Goofy?"

"Oh. Gawrsh," said Goofy. "She's--they're—undergoing a bit of a separation at the moment. Or at least they were—until—" The dog-thing's voice became choked with emotion. "There was—fire, and there was—locusts—and Tinkerbell fought so hard--for nothin'--" He composed himself.

Sora grinned, oblivious. "Neato! Keen! I'm not sure what's going on!"

"Really. What a surprise," said Kairi. She released her death-grip on the tousle-haired boy and scuttled towards the dog-thing. "I'm not fully willing to accept your existence, dog-thing—"

"Th' names Goofy!"

"I'm sure it is," she said levelly. "My question is, what do you want with Sora? He's practically-- uh-- Sora, cover your ears and close your eyes."

"Oh boy!" Sora chirped. "Are we gonna play neurosurgeon and the lonely MRI machine?" He beamed. "I'm good at that!" The tousle-haired boy clapped his hands over his ears, closed his eyes, and opened his mouth wide.

A shudder ran through Kairi. She cast Axel a venomous glance. He smiled beatifically and shrugged.

She faced the dog thing. "He's practically useless. He's sweet and kind and generous and he never shuts up about friendship--"

"He never does," said Axel, staring at the fire. "Thank god for duct-tape."

Kairi glared at him.

Axel pointed at his ears. "I wad it up and stick it in my ears."

"That's what she said!" giggled Sora, eyes still closed.

Goofy placed his hands on Kairi's shoulders. She repressed a shudder, feeling those cold, moist hands on her body. "The boy has more capacity for goodness than you could possibly imagine," Goofy said, staring at her intently. "He is a bottomless fountain of life."

Kairi blinked. "Huh. That's a strange turn of phrase," she said.

"Hyuck. We need him, Kairi. He's the only one who can do it."

Kairi sighed, and poked Sora with a bony finger. "You can uncover your ears," she said. "Go ahead and ask him."

Goofy turned to the boy. "Will you help us, Sora?" he asked. "Will you help us save the magical kingdom? And the universe, hyuck."

"Huh," said Sora. He looked momentarily thoughtful. "Well, Kairi already invited me to have sex with her! But this sounds like more fun!

Kairi paled, and glared at him, horrifed on two levels.

Goofy's jaw dropped. "Gawrsh! I thoughtcha was all just kiddin' around 'bout that! Good golly!"

"It's alright! She's my girlfriend!" said Sora.

"I'm—just a girl who's his—oh, wait, that makes it sound worse!" said Kairi.

Goofy shook his head. "Gawrsh, so we came just in time!"

Axel snorted.

Goofy continued. "If li'l buddy here had dipped his keyblade into your gummi hangar—"

"What!" said Kairi.

"I'm trying to be discreet—" said Goofy, frowning.

"You're not succeeding!"

Goofy sighed. "If—Ora-say—had knocked oversized boots with—well, you—we'd all be doomed!"

"Yeah!" said Axel, cheering. "Say that louder! Scream it to the heavens! Sora, you hear that?"

"Wait, I thought you couldn't hear—" said Kairi, looking back and forth between Axel and Goofy.

"Yeah, but who's Ora-say?" said Sora, interrupting. "And why does he have to have sex with my girlfriend? Or is it a thing you do! Like oral sex! Which was what, if I understand correctly, what happens when a man and a van and a plan—"

"A Canal! Panama!" screamed Axel. "Word games are fun!"

Sora grinned. "My safe word is—" He looked puzzled. "Wait! Do I have one, Mr. A—"

"Kairi, kiss him!" said Axel. "Stick your hideous tongue down his soft, delicious throat!"

"Well, that's a bit of a 180," said Kairi warily. "Also, ew."

"180 is 69 times two plus 8!" said Sora cheerfully.

They all looked at Sora.

"Sometimes I talk when I shouldn't talk," said Sora cheerily.

"Yeah, sometimes," said Axel through clenched teeth. Black smoke swirled around his ankles.

"So, Kairi," said Goofy. "Are you a virgin?"

"Yes!" said Kairi.

"Ahaehheheheheheheh," said Axel.

"What was that?" she asked.

"I said, 'Ahahahahahahahheheheh," said me," said Axel.

She turned her back on the clown. "Yes, I am."

"Ahhhahahahahahehehehhhh," said Axel.

Goofy clapped his hands. "Gawrsh! Amazing! The prophecies are true!"

"What," said Kairi.

"I know little buddy here is a pure as driven snow!" Goofy said, clapping Sora on the shoulder.

Axel sighed deeply.

Kairi furrowed her brow. "You heard that as well?" she asked.

"Heard what?" asked the clown innocently.

"The boy is unsullied! He is pure!" said Goofy. The duck nodded approvingly.

Axel sighed even more deeply.

"You—you are hearing the dog-thing speak!" Kairi said, accusing.

Axel shrugged. "All I can hear is the crackle of flames and the inexorable aging of—marshmallows," he said sadly.

"As if written on the Tablet of Ancient Ry'leh," said Goofy, off in his own little purple-prosed world. "In the time of the rat-king's rule, so shall two virgins come together—"

Axel tittered like a retarded schoolgirl.

"—on the Altar of Eisner, and in their physical union—"

"Wait, what?" said Kair. "Union? We're forming a union? Is—is Disney down with that?"

"—they shall cleanse the corruption that eats at the heart of the Magical Kingdom!" said Goofy.

The duck nodded.

"Yecch," Kairi said. "This sounds like plot development."

The duck squawked. Goofy nodded. "The King went too far! Too far! He has danced to the shrill pipings of blind idiot madmen, whistling their songs of chaos through flutes of bone and ash! He has cavorted naked in dark fathomless caverns sealed off by Templar knights centuries past, impregnating the very earth with his cancerous seed. He has cracked the scriven seals of Solomon in the desert temples of al-Hazrad, lost since lost beneath the sands of Arabie. All of this, all of these abominations, done for no purpose!"

The duck nodded.

"I'm not getting any of this at all," said Kairi.

Goofy grabbed Sora's hand. "Gawrsh, his soft skin pulses with vitality! He is stuffed with life-force."

Kairi kept her eyes fixed intently on Axel. He continued to roast a pine-cone, unflinching.

Goofy pulled a rusty dagger from his boot. "Kairi, we need a bowl!"

"Uh," she said. "Wh—" She paused. "Why do you need a bowl?"

Goofy rolled his eyes. "Gawrsh, we must use the boy's sacred blood to scry the location of he who shall not be named but who has a tail and ears. We must cast blood into a bowl water, find the king's lair, and be off into the middle-lands, e'er the hounds of Tindalos sniff him out!"

"Blood—dogs—who's sniffing who?" Kairi asked.

"Even now, hordes of hideous crack-pated daemons are descending upon this plane of existence!" implored Goofy. "They seek to slay the Child and eat his still-quivering brains!"

"Yay, quivering!" said Sora.

The dog thing continued on for a while as Kairi zoned out. She came back into awareness when Goofy's swollen fingers snapped in front of her face.

"So, Kairi?" asked Goofy. "Will you help us? Will you help—Sora?"

She sighed. "If I don't, it's just going to be him and the clown, isn't it?"

Axel smiled dreamily.

"Sure. Yay," she said. "Let's—go—save the magical kingdom. Somehow. I'm guessing details aren't a big priority for this operation."

"Yay, the magical kingdom!" said Sora, springing to his feet. "Will King Mickey be there?"

Goofy blanched. "He—hasn't understood a word of this, has he?"

Kairi looked at Sora. He picked his nose thoughtfully. "Hey, Sora!" she said gently.

"Yes, Kairi?" he said. He looked around. "Goofy! Donald! Kairi! Axel! Sora!"

"Oh, fuck, whatever," said Kairi. "Sora? Want to go on an amazing adventure across time and space and dimensions and realities and fandoms and mixed-media and blah-de-blah and, oh, wait, 'friendship'—"

"Yay! Let's go!" said Sora, leaping to his awfully oversized feet and dramatically fluorished his keyblade. "Friendship!" he cried, bounding into the dark woods. Goofy and the duck sprinted after him.

"I suppose you'll be coming as well," Kairi said coldly to the clown, rising to her feet and smoothing her skirt.

Axel stood up, his knees crackling like frying bacon. "Oh, I hope so! And I mean yes!" he said. He smiled. "After all, only I have the eggs of teleportation! Can't cross time and space without those!"

"Really? How does Goofy do it?" she asked.

"Goofy?" he said. "Who the fuck is Goofy?"

She sighed, and turned away from the clown, just in time for him to grab a piece of firewood and slam it down on her noggin. She crumpled to the ground like uncooked bacon.

"That was surprising satisfying!" Axel said, throwing the wooden cudgel into the fire. "So long, unnattractive girl!" he said, kicking her a few times in the ribs before swaggering off into the forest.

* * *

Hours passed. "I think she's dead," said Demyx, poking Kairi with a weiner-roaster.

Kairi groaned.

"Guess not. Minion, quit licking her!"

"Sorry, master," said the little water elemental. "She tastes like marshmallows and duck sweat!"

Demyx frowned. "Interesting. Move aside and let me have a taste."

Kairi groaned.

* * *

Deep in the forest, Goofy, Sora, the duck were standing around, nervously watching the clown dig a hole in the center of a clearing.

"Where th' heck did he get that shovel from?" Goofy whispered to the duck.

Donald shrugged.

"Gosh, Mr. Axel, didn't Kairi want to come along?" Sora asked.

"Naw, she died," Axel said nonchalantly. "It was instantaneous. Painless. Natural?" He looked thoughtful. "Yes. Wood is part of nature. So, yeah, it was natural."

Sora began to whimper. "B-b-b-ut Kairi—" he said.

"You'll have time to mourn as we drag her back here," Axel said, hopping out of the shallow grave. "She's a pretty heavy package. Not like you, slim!"

Sora continued to whimper.

Axel sighed. "She's in heaven, my little soda cracker! Cavorting with angels and puppies and Jesus. And relax! You'll see her soon enough!"

"Really?" asked Sora, eyes wide.

Axel smiled. "You can count on it, li'l buddy!"

The duck looked up at Goofy quizzically. "I know. Hyuck. I don't think this was such a good idea, all of a sudden."

* * *

Sebastian whistled like a tea kettle as Mickey lowered him into the cauldron, cackling all the while. Ariel could only look on in despair.

* * *

"Hyuck. Good point, buddy ol' pal. Well, shit, we're kinda caught between the devil and the deep blue murderous clown, ol' pal," Goofy muttered. "But he's got the ancient Balls—"

"I resent that statement!" said Axel, wrapping an arm around Sora's shoulders.

"—of Teleportation."

"Ah," said Axel, nodding sagely.

The duck's sword lashed out, a flash of bright silvery light in the clearing. Sora squeaked, and grabbed his hand. "Owie!" he squealed, holding up his thumb. "Mr. Donald cut me!"

The duck dipped the tip of his swords in the silver bowl held by Goofy. "Gawrsh, I can see it!" said the dog-thing. "King Mickey is in the land of—oh gracious me!" He looked at the Duck. "What th' heck is he doing there? Of all the places to be--"

"Are you padding narrative for the sake of creating tension or to cover sloppy plotting?" Sora asked cheerfully.

The dog thing frowned.

Axel looked distracted. "Do you hear that?" he asked, cupping his ear. "Oh good god. Demyx is tuning his guitar for 'Kumbaya'. We've gotta split. Quickly!"

"B-b-but Kairi—" whimpered Sora.

"—Will still be just as dead without burying her," said Axel, conjuring his smokey balls into existence. "Besides, the forest will reclaim her body, turn it into trees and squirrels and whatnot, it's all very circle of life—"

Goofy and the duck exchanged looks, pained memories bubbling to the surface.

"—but we're done for if we don't leave. Without the benefit of my special S'mores – the secret ingredient is prescription drugs, ain't I a pip? – the effects of Demyx's folk music is potentially fatal."

He grabbed Sora by the collar. "Get in the ball!" he screeched, and flung the boy bodily into the smokey ball. It disappeared with a muffled pop.

Goofy gasped. "B-b-but we haven't even toldja yet where we have to go t' save the multiverse!"

Axel looked confused. "And how does that affect us?" he asked, before leaping into the other ball. The last part of him to disappear was his middle finger, extended vigorously towards the dog and duck.

"Well, shit," said Goofy. The remaining two balls began to dissipate. "In the name of The Kingdom of King Mickey Without King Mickey, we shall prevail!" he howled. He scooped Donald up under his arm and leaped into the nearest globe. It popped.

Then the clearing was empty, save for the shallow grave, the remaining orb, and a pair of witnesses, crouching hidden in the darkness.

"Squeak," said one of the witnesses.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

At first glance -- or, rather, at first smell -- Sora thought they'd cross-dimensionally teleported into a chicken coop. Greasy yellow feathers covered the wooden planked floor. Bird feces were smeared on the walls and floor in equal amounts.

Axel sniffed the air. "Diesel and chicken-shit. Mm, smells like Mom's quiche," he said.

Sora stood, agape. "Oh my gosh," he whispered, eyes as wide as dumb saucers. "Oh my golly golly goshkins!"

"Well I'll be," said Axel, hands resting on his non-existent hips. "That's the largest chicken I've ever seen crammed into an oversized hamster wheel in order to power a highly unaerodynamic airship!"

The yellow-feathered creature ran unceasingly forward, spinning the wheel. It stared at Sora with mad chickeny eyes, beak agape, panting desperately as it ran. Rancid chocobo spit spattered rhythmically onto his enormous shoes.

"It's so byootiful!" cooed Sora. He reached out and tried to pat the greasy monstrosity, which snapped at his fingers. "It's just like Big Bird, only without arms and it drools a bunch more!"

Axel stalked around the room, ignoring the rows of wheezing chickens as he glared into shadowy recesses and overturned wooden barrels of chicken feed. "No sign of that annoying dog-thing and his creepy duck," he muttered expositionally, relaxing slightly. "A few more minutes and my mystickal magickal refractory period will be ready to--" He stopped suddenly, bending over to consider his reflection in a porthole. "Oh shit, my hair!" he whined, pawing pathetically at his limp tresses. "Livestock always gives me split-ends!"

He made shooing motions at Sora. "I don't want you to see me in this condition, my little digestive biscuit. Shoo, run around, explore, find me some gel, make some friends. We'll teleport away in a few minutes, make sure we lose the dog-thing for good. " He scowled at a lock of hair dangling impotently between his fingers. "Go, make some new friends, new friends with ludicrous hairstyles. Then steal their gel!"

But Sora was already gone.

* * *

"Tee-hee!" giggled Yuna. "Laughing is fun!"

"I like to laugh!" said Tidus. "Ha! Ha!"

"Ha! Ha!" laughed Yuna.

"Ha! Ha!" laughed Tidus.

"You know, Yuna, my dad was a whale. You know how they say the acorn doesn't fall too far from the tree?"

"Ha ha! I don't understand!"

"Ha! It means that's when trees make nuts, the nuts turn into trees just like the tree that made them!"

"Tee hee! Are you saying you're a tree?" She giggled. "I could believe it, because you sure are--nutty! Tee hee!"

"Ha ha! Hahaha!" laughed Tidus."Oh Yuna, it feels good to laugh, doesn't it?"

"Yes!" nodded Yuna. "Laughter is—"

A chipper voice interjected. "Laughter builds friendship! And friends are the best things to have in the whole wide world!" said Sora, bounding onto the deck of the airship with a radiant smile on his face.

Tidus looked down at the boy. "Do I know you?" he said coldly.

"I'm Sora!" chirped Sora, his maniacally happy smile slightly diminished. "And you are?"

"And _we_ were in the middle of something," Yuna said, even more coldly.

Tidus grabbed Sora by the collar and hauled him aside, before kneeling down to the boy's level. "Listen, kid," Tidus whispered, his voice low and mean. "See this girl here? She's as dumb as a brick, she's built like an anorexic broom, she runs like a spastic otter, and she's creepily religous. I know, what a catch! Thing is, kiddo, she's pretty much the only chance I have of getting my Blitzball spiked, if you know what I mean." He ignored the tousle-haired boy's confused expression. "Look around me. See her? Lesbo--" He pointed at Lulu. "--Lesbo--" He pointed at Rikku. "--Gaywad--" He pointed at Wakka. "—Furry—" he pointed at Kimahri. "--Rapist--" He pointed at Auron.

"How can you talk about your friends like that?" Sora asked, his lower lip quivering.

"How? How? My life is completely gone to hell! My dad's a giant genocidal whale! My retarded future fuck-buddy here is trying to kill him! I used to be a famous Blitzball player before I got teleported into this post-apocalyptic and weirdly south-pacific themed future!"

"Your dad is a whale?"

"Yes, a whale who kills people! LOTS of people."

"So he's a killer whale?"

Tidus slapped the back of the tousle-haired boy's head. "Shut the fuck up, shitstain. My point is that the last thing I need is some little brat coming into my airship and trying to ruin my chances with the queen of ditzes here." He looked up and flashed Yuna a brilliant grin. She smiled sweetly and waved at him. "Are we clear?"

"Why do you have giant chickens in your basement?" Sora asked.

Just as Tidus cocked a fist to loosen Sora's teeth, Axel's head appeared around the corner. "There you are, chummy-wum!" the clown cried, his voice moist with relief. "We'd best be off – my portal of darkness is fully charged and ready for you to enter!"

Tidus smirked knowingly and lowered his fist. "Yeah, you'd best be off with your totally gay grandpa there, before I beat you stupid. Stupider, I mean. Heh."

"He's not my grandpa!" chirped Sora, before he was sent stumbling backwards towards Axel.

Tidus turned back to Yuna and cleared his throat. "As I was saying -- you know, Yuna, my dad was a whale. You know how they say the acorn doesn't fall too far from the tree?"

"Ha ha! I don't understand!"

"The same goes for penises! Ha ha! Get it?"

"Tee hee. No, I don't get it!" Yuna said, giggling innocently.

"Shit," Tidus whispered under his breath. "Chocobo tease."

* * *

"What'd the kid in the asymettrical shorts want?" Axel asked curiously, prepping his interdimensional poofer.

Sora wrinkled his brow. "He said his dad's a whale, he hates his friends, and he wants to get married to a broom."

"Oh, yeah, been there, done that, got the restraining order." said Axel.

Sora frowned. "But he never did say why he had giant cocks in his bottom."

Axel stopped suddenly. "Oh, come on now. Really? REALLY?"

"What, Mr. Axel?" Sora asked innocently.

"Cut. Cut." The boom-mike bobbed into frame momentarily. A clapperboard snapped. "I can't-- I can only suspend my disbelief so much. I know, I know, 'tee hee, you're a clown and I say things that imply hideously illegal and morally reprehensible actions, tee hee!'. Do you ever even listen to yourself speak?"

Sora suddenly became dead serious. "I ain't gonna be cute forever, old man. This schtick pays until my five-o'clock shadow outshines these magical fucking dimples. Gotta make my money while the sun shines, 'cause in this world, once you're not cute, you're a clown. Capiche?"

Axel nodded. "Right. Clear enough." He looked down at the boy. "Sorry about that. Are we cool?"

Sora stubbed out his cigarette on the sole of his oversized shoe. "Yeah, it's fine. It's my fault. That's what I get for ad-libbing."

There was the startling crack of a starter pistol going off. Axel and Sora both flinched. "We're wasting time and film, people!!" bellowed an amplified voice from off-screen. "Let's get back on target! We've still got thirty-four scenes left to shoot, and we've already lost two chocobos to heat-stroke."

Axel and Sora nodded in unison.

"Rolling in three-two--"

"Golly golly gosharoo, Mr. Axel," chirped Sora brightly. "I wonder what fabulous worlds we're going to leap into _next_ in our quest to save the Magic Kingdom!"

Axel shrugged. His eyes were dull. "It's sure to be an amazing place, li'l fellow, and we'll have such comedic times there, hoo boy, it'll be like Abbot and Costello got drunk in a hot-tub and jerked each other off."

Sora cleared his throat.

Axel sighed. "Whatever," he said sullenly, conjuring his balls into existence.

They both disappeared in a fwoomp of black smoke.

*** * ***

Meanwhile, back at the Organization XIII campground, those of impure heartlessness and impeccable fake IDs had begun drifting back from the mini-mall, having exhausted the limited supply of available debauchery. This may have been the bad side of Twilight Town, but it was still, however, Twilight Town. As they staggered back they carried with them a number a number of mismatched coolers, liberated from other camp-sites.

"Look at this!" said Marluxia, opening a dented orange Cooler King Deluxe. "Sliced provolone! Bud Light! Aerosol cheese! Tortillas! What the hell! I knew American was a melting pot, but seriously!"

"This chili tastes like—nothingness, mixed with grit and plaster," said Luxord, licking the can lid. "How can these people eat this shit!" He opened another can of the chili.

"They can't now!" said Marluxia. They high-fived. "It's a good thing we've done! ORG 13 HIGH FIVE." They slapped meat.

"Sleepy-time!" trilled Demyx, cramming a squirming mass of elementals into a mini-cooler.

"We'll fade without your music, master!" squeaked a tiny moist voice from underneath his insistent fingers.

"Sucks to be you!" sang Demyx, and slammed the sound-proof lid down on the cooler. "You guys scream too much. Tonight's about singin'!"

"I—I have a song, Master," said a little voice by his feet. "I think you'll really like it."

Demyx glared down. A diminutive elemental stood quivering by his booted feet. "Is the song entitled, 'Get In The Fucking Cooler?" he hissed.

"It-it's called 'Hakkuna Matata!' said the little elemental. "It's really pretty! Your friends will really like it! It means 'no worries'!"

"That sure doesn't sound like a song called 'Get In The Fucking Cooler!" Demyx said, leaning over.

"Can—I—sing it for you!"

Demyx paused. "Perhaps. Begin."

The little elemental began to sing in a small, trembling, but beautiful tiny voice. Demyx listened thoughtfully, tuning out the noise around him. He gave a single nod, and smiled a beatific smile.

"Y-you like it?" said the little elemental.

"I did!" said Demyx.

"So you won't—put me in the cooler?"

Demyx smiled. "Naw, I'm not gonna put you in the cooler." He scooped the adorable little wad of water up. "Do your people ever wonder where my musical genius comes from?"

"Um. From your perfect natural talent?" said the little elemental.

Demyx laughed. "Naw. I'm not actually very talented. Not many people know that. I try to keep it on the down-low. It's our little secret!"

"Am—am I your friend?"

Demyx stared off into the distance. "You might be—you might say we'll be together for as long as you live?"

"Oh," said the water elemental. "You're going to eat me, aren't you?"

"Think of it more as a union!" said Demyx.

"Is—is Disney cool with that?" said the water elemental.

"Hah! An intermingling of souls. A merging of beings. A slurry of spirit. Our two halves become one."

"So you are going to eat me."

Demyx just smiled.

Larxene sniffed her cooler thoughtfully. "This smells like—meat. Lots of meat. Tubular meat," she said.

"What does tubular smell like?" said Marluxia.

"It smells totally gnarly! Rad!" said Xigbar. Marluxia bitch-slapped him.

"My god, it's full of sausages!" said Larxene, opening the lid. "I've never seen this much tubular meat since—"

"Nobody interrupted you. Why did you pause?" said Marluxia accusingly.

"I've never seen this much tubular meat. My god, it's big," she said, plunging her wiry little arms into the cooler. Everyone paused what they were doing and looked over at her.

She stopped, arms elbow deep in the fire-engine red cooler. "What are you all looking at?" Larxene asked.

"That's a really big sausage," said Luxord, grinning coquettishly.

"It suuuuuuure is," said Demyx, chewing thoughtfully.

"Hmm, sausage," said Saix.

"Yes," said Larxene, her voice chilly. "It is." She looked around the circle of black-robed figures, suddenly aware that each and every one was sniggering like a school-boy.

Slowly, with studied care, she placed the sausage in the center of Luxord's folding card-table, and pulled her hand back. "Discuss," she said coldly.

"I'm as confused as you are!" said Demyx.

"You thought I was going to whip it out," she hissed. Xigbar looked sheepish. "Whip it out. That's—nobody actually whips out a sausage! They aren't sturdy enough! Unless you're talking about those Hickory Farms ones they sell that at the checkout counters that I once killed a—that you could theoretically kill a man with! But your more typical sausage is a soft, tender, delicate amalgamation of aaanimal bits in pig intenstine, intended to with some degree of ease with human teeth!" She emphasized the last word, hissing out the 'th'.

The crowd winced.

"So, she asked. She Larxene jabbed the enormous garlicky sausage with a boney finger. "What the fuck is so funny about a sausage?" she hissed.

"Oh, if only you knew," said the rest of the organization as one.

"It looks like a penis. I get it. Everybody gets it. It's cylindrical. It's pink. It has a curve. When you get down to it, so does Namine. Do you think she looks like a penis?" She eyed them carefully. Demyx's eyes seemed to have a disturbingly bright quality to them. "Does anybody OTHER than Demyx think she looks like a penis?"

No one spoke.

"You know why nobody other than Demyx thinks she looks like a penis? Because she doesn't look like a penis, you ignorant pieces of shit. And furthermore, if anything penis-shaped is such a grand source of amusement to you all—"

"My sitar looks sort of like a penis," Demyx chirped helpfully.

"Remind me to never see you naked," Larxene said. She stopped. "I've completely forgotten what I was going to say."

"Sausages!" chirped Demyx.

"Right. Now, back to the sausage in question," she said. She reached into the folds of her robe and began slowly, sensuously unsheathing a large carving knife.

"Yay!" said Luxord. "Oh, I thought you were happy to see me."

"I am never happy to see you, Luxord," she said, slicing the sausage savagely. Demyx winced. Kairi blushed. Xigbar looked hungry.

"Have you ever googled duck penises?" asked Xigbar.

"Well, there was that week in Marrakesh," said Larxene, a distant longing in her eyes. "There was nothing Daffy about what happened between those sheets."

"Wait, what?" said Marluxia.

"One time I googled an elephant, and I couldn't sit down in my pyjamas for a week," said Xigbar.

"Wait, what?" said Demyx.

"If it wasn't for that elephant, I never would have spent that year in clown college," said Xemnas, surprisingly.

Larxene slammed the stump of the sausage on Luxard's beloved card table. "My point remains, you passel of queers! The sausage is patently not a penis!" she shrieked, bouncing the remaining meaty stub off of Demyx's crunchy mullet. "I'm amazed you faggots ever get anything done around here!"

"We don't!" chirped Demyx. "That's part of our charm! Don't fuck it up!"

"Shut up, all of you!" cried Marluxia, shoving Larxene aside. "We need to stop bickering and have a good old-fashioned time! Demyx, initiate the S'mores!"

Demyx saluted. "I have my best men—er, elementals on it! They're toasting as we speak, sir!"

Marluxia grinned. "Well done! How about a rousing campfire song, then?"

"I thought you'd never ask!" said Demyx, whipping out his Sitar. "Anything in particular you want?"

"Nazi Punks Fuck Off!" squeaked Larxene.

"The Gambler!" said Luxord.

"It's Raining Men!" said Marluxia.

"Closer My God To Thee!" said Demyx.

"What?" said Marluxia.

"Kumbaya!" said Demyx, strumming his sitar frantically.

They all of them swayed in unison and sang along, as Demyx plucked the strings of his sitar and began to wail out the ancient melody.

In the forest, the gentle woodland creatures began to die, one by one, falling from the trees.

* * *

Meanwhile, in another fandom entirely, Sora was agape with wide-eyed fascination. "Golly, this is amazing!" he breathed. "Lookit! Skyscapers! Billboards! Parks! Youth Emergency Shelters! Batmans!"

"Kinda busy," said Axel, a knife inches away from his eyeball. He stood motionless while Sora scampered around obliviously.

"Do you wanna know how I got these scars?" said the man holding the knife against Axel's face. The man pointed at his own face. He was scarred and mangled and his face was covered with greasepaint.

Axel blinked, then smiled. "Yeah, I do! Those are totally gross!" He grimaced. "Your face is all chopped up and stuff!"

The Joker looked bemused. "Well—"

"And I do have some expertise in the field of plastic surgery, so you be detailed," said the clown, steepling his hands behind the back of his head, "I want to know what NOT to do. If I'm ever in your situation."

The Joker looked pissed.

* * *

An ambulance siren faded away in the background noise. The S'mores were starting to kick in. Behind them they could hear the massed members of Organization XIII slurring the words of a rousing rendition of '99 Bottles of Dubbin'.

Neither cared.

"See? I told you I saw her around. Here she is," said Demyx. He pointed down. Mostly. "She probably knows where Axel is. If she's alive."

"She seems to be breathing," said Larxene, looking at the crumpled figure. "Where'd you find her?"

"By Axel's fire," said Demyx, blowing on his sizzling fingertips. "She was knocked out. Unconscious. Face down in the dirt with her rump in the air."

Larxene looked stunned. "But she's a—"

"A she," said Demyx. "Blew my mind as well. Believe me, I checked. Thoroughly! With my tongue and everything!"

Kairi moaned.

"I could murder another S'more," said Larxene.

Demyx nodded. "I've got---a few. On me."

Larxene nodded.

"On me," Demyx said, nodding.

"Yeah," said Larxene.

"On me."

"Yeah."

Neither said anything.

"I think there was—something—" said Larxene, trying to focus on anything focus-on-able. "In those S'mores. Something that's not supposed t' be-- in a S'more-- but is something more but less but definitely more in these s'mores."

"On me," said Demyx, wobbling..

From the campfire behind them they heard the sound of a pinata being hit with a baseball bat.

"Oooh, they'se starting to play 'Pin the Baseball Bat on the Xigbar'," Larxene said, looking behind her. "Let's grab li'l miss goody-goody big shoes here before she gets eated by snails or chipmunks or some shit like that."

A pair of eyes squinted angrily at her in the darkness.

"Powerful big snails in the woods this time of year, y'see," she said, speaking to no-one as she popped another S'more in her mouth. "Colosh—collosal beasts with a bevy of eye-stalks n' raspy tongues, slurping about an' eating the architecture, and shitting in the drinking fountains. 'S quite the thing. I seen a lot of that. Back in the 'Nam. The Vietnam. The country of Vietnam. Where I fought."

Demyx was patting his trenchcoat in slow motion. "I've lost m' S'mores," he mumbled.

Larxene swayed gently, like a beady-eyed stalk of bamboo in the wind. "Grab a limb, Demmy," she slurred. He complied, and the diminutive girl soon swung like a knotted bundle of pink cooked spaghetti between the staggering duo.

"Wakey wakey, K-way!" Larxene shouted in Kairi's ear. "The party's only getting started! When you party the Orgy Ex Eye Eye Eye way, you party 'til--" She blinked. "When do we party 'til, Demmy?"

"Til somebody other than Xigbar loses an eyes!" said Demyx,

"That's right! Kay-kay!" She shook Kairi, who quivered limply. "We're gonna go have shome fun now!"

Demyx grinned. "Xemnas brought Twister!"

Kairi groaned.

* * *

Meanwhile, in that other dimension we saw earlier, Axel had fallen in love all over again.

"So, you say he's both a father figure and your best friend?"

"Gee, I guess so!"

"And you live with him in his mansion. His big, lonely mansion. Without parents or guardians."

"Yeah! Cool beans, ain't it?"

"And he dresses you up in these tight little skin-tight numbers and has you parade around town at his side, gazing up at you adoringly."

"Uh. I guess so?"

Axel glared at Batman, who was standing on the edge of the rooftop, holding Goofy by the throat and dangling the dog-thing over the streets below.

"Does your grown-up friend like popsicles?" he asked.

Robin looked confused. "I—don't think so."

Axel frowned. "That makes it more complicated. More conspicuous. Easier to gather evidence." He smiled brightly. "That doesn't matter. I'm good at what I do. I'm discreet! Look! It's says so on my business card! Just kidding. This isn't a business card. It's a rag! Avec chloroform, mais oui!"

Robin gulped nervously.

Batman released Goofy's throat. The dog-thing dropped like a rock.

Axel and Sora fwoomped away.

* * *

Larxene stared at the bacchanal around her. "Jesus crispies," she slurred, dropping Kairi to the ground. The girl landed on a fallen trenchcoated figure. "A goat? A jungle-gym? And where'sh all these gumballs coming from?"

"Theysh marbles," said Demyx, spitting out a handful of glass and teeth. "Not so yummy."

Larxene's glazed eyes "I never knew camping was so--" She stopped to eat another S'more. "I mean, look at Xigbar, you know that's going to leave bruising."

Suddenly, Kairi's eyes rolled up from white to Kairi-coloured, her head lolling forward. "Glurk!" she said, sitting up.

"Demyx! Grab her tongue!" screamed Larxene.

His sticky digits grabbed the brunette's tongue. "Glark!" said Kairi, writhing desperately.

"Got it!" said Demyx.

"ECK OG ME!" said Kairi.

"Ish she choking?" sais Larxene.

"GEG UR UCKING ANGS OG MEH TUG!" said Kairi, her arms flailing wildly.

"What's the li'l big-foot sayin'?" asked Larxene.

"Who?" asked Demyx, tongue in hand.

Larxene pointed at Kairi. "You're in her mouth."

Demyx looked sideways. "Oh. Gosh. Ick."

"ET GO UG MUH TUG!" screamed Kairi, still flailing piteously.

Larxene blinked blearily. "I don't think she'sh choking," she said.

"Mebbe I need a better grip," said Demyx, getting his other hand involved.

Kairi's eyes rolled back in her head, and she fell back onto the unconscious man below her.

"There we go," said Demyx, wiping off his hands. He looked around. "Time to--"

He fell over bonelessly. As did Larxene.

Kairi, half-dead, opened her eyes blearily. And she saw. She saw everything.

Everything.

She passed out.

Night fell.

Stuff happened.

Things got pretty darn fucked up around the campfire.

Lots of stuff happened that night. Ambulances came and went. The police did not. Several cases of PTSD started to develop. A number of trees were felled. The economy of Papua New Guinea experienced a startling boom. The only campground official around took one look at everything that was happening at the Twilight Town Municipal Campground and turned around and drove home, determined to pretend that he saw nothing, and then he locked himself in his garden shed and drank lye.

The closed bathrooms, soiled and evidential, were no longer closed.

And that's how the night passed, for the most part.


End file.
